


A House Divided

by shadeshifter



Series: Writers Block [1]
Category: NCIS, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Competent Tony DiNozzo, Episode: s06e25 Aliyah, Episode: s07e21-22 Lost City, M/M, Sentinel/Guide, Timeline What Timeline, Tony DiNozzo Leaves NCIS Team, Tony-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2020-05-13 09:25:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19248364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadeshifter/pseuds/shadeshifter
Summary: Just after coming back from Israel, Tony is sent on a secret undercover mission with little preparation and some serious doubts. He uncovers a lot more than he could have ever anticipated, but it may just be everything he's ever wanted.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a challenge fic that I couldn't finish, with apologies to everyone involved. The mods and participants were fantastic, but I wasn't in a good headspace, haven't been for a while, but I am planning to finish this even if it is really really late.
> 
> I've been struggling to write for the last year and a half. I haven't been in a good headspace at all, so I'm posting what I have in the hopes that it sparks something. Comments requesting that I 'post more please' will be ignored.

“Doctor Mercier,” Tony said evenly as he perched in one of the armchairs set facing each other. He deliberately relaxed, leaning back and resting his hands in his lap instead of clenched on the arms of the chair. Partly this was to protect his injured arm, but mostly it was so he didn’t give away any of the anxiety he was feeling. An easy smile followed and Tony met the man’s gaze without cringing or looking away like he wanted to. 

While most guides were drawn to fields dealing with human behaviour, those who debriefed sentinels, whether active or latent, were usually required to have some sort of qualification. It just made Tony all the more inclined to avoid them. 

He’d spent most of his life hiding what he was, or at least the extent of it. According to the Centre, he was classified as a latent sentinel. Sometimes latent sentinels presented with one or two senses heightened to the extreme edge of normal human capabilities, but it was only once they became active that all their senses kicked in and they accessed the more spiritual side of things. Tony was registered as having heightened sight and hearing, but he’d faked and skewed the results of any tests they’d wanted to do so that he appeared latent.

“Agent DiNozzo,” Mercier greeted, his sharp gaze sweeping over Tony and his psychic presence following in a way that always made Tony want to tense up. He very carefully kept himself relaxed and let the probe catch some of his uneasiness, to have none would just lead to a more invasive look into the heart of him, but put the rest away. “I’m sure you’re familiar by now with the protocols when there’s a case-related injury of a sentinel or guide. Even latent ones.”

Tony cleared his throat and figured it might be less painful to answer than to listen to platitudes that he didn’t need. He was aware of the manipulation, but he also just wanted to this over with.

“I am,” Tony said, trying not to reveal just how much discomfit that thought gave him. The practice was meant to reduce the likelihood of sentinels and guides going rogue, but Tony had always seen it as more of a nuisance than anything else. The Centre claimed there was a deeper, spiritual aspect to all this, and Tony could concede that there definitely was, but it was still an organisation. And inevitably every organisation created its share of bureaucracy. That was something he knew well. That was a system he could work. 

“So why don’t we start with your injuries.”

Tony sighed. He would have loved to use the excuse that it was classified, that revealing that information would compromise national security, but the Centre and the various federal agencies all made sure that the guides doing the debriefing had the relevant clearances. 

He paused, gathering his thoughts, aware that he was going to have to be very careful how he phrased things. This process was as much to protect him as it was to protect sentinels and guides, but he had his own people he felt he needed to shield.

“I went to my partner’s apartment to speak to her,” Tony began, already considering what and how much he could reveal. “She wasn’t there, but her boyfriend was.”

...

Tony straightened his spine as he stepped off the elevator. Being summarily taken to Israel still grated and, though he’d expected better even if he hadn’t exactly been surprised by Vance’s insistence, but that Gibbs hadn’t said a word, one way or the other, that was what got to him the most. Regardless of his own feelings, and he couldn’t deny, not in the privacy of his own thoughts, that they weren’t conflicted, his team was all he had. 

He breathed in deeply and swept up to his desk, greeting Gibbs and McGee as he did so. He was halfway through turning to greet Ziva when he remembered she wasn’t there. Instead, he settled at his desk and powered up his computer. He could feel McGee’s nervous energy long before the other man looked at him, mouth opening and closing as he picked out his words, before he shook his head and turned back to his computer. 

Tony sighed when he saw that Cynthia had sent him a message about a meeting with Vance that was scheduled for less than ten minutes from now. He rose, movements slow as he considered, and dreaded, all the possible reasons Vance could want to speak to him. He hovered somewhere between thinking he was being reassigned to thinking he was being fired. 

“Where are you going?” Tim asked and Tony glanced his way.

“Vance.”

Gibbs didn’t look at him, didn’t even really move, but Tony suddenly felt like he was the centre of Gibbs’ attention. It pressed at him, in the way Gibbs’ presence always did, picking at the edges of his consciousness. It used to be a comfort, knowing Gibbs was paying attention, noticing him, but now he just felt resentful that he knew Gibbs saw how things had been on the team and did nothing.

“Why does he want to see you?” Tim continued, oblivious to the sudden tension. 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Tony said with an absent shrug, deliberately downplaying his thoughts on the issue because he really didn’t want to deal with whatever comments Tim might make. 

It was only once he was on the stairs that he saw out of the corner of his eye Gibbs turn to watch him and he wondered if Gibbs knew anything about what was going on. From the narrow-eyed look, he couldn’t tell if Gibbs was annoyed because he knew or because he didn’t. Predicting Gibbs’ thought processes from his moods had become increasingly difficult over the years. Where once they had been so in sync, there was a distance now that he had only seen when it had become too difficult to traverse. 

With all this in mind, he nodded to Cynthia who gave him a grim but sympathetic look in return as she gestured to Vance’s office. The door was closed, so he gave a perfunctory knock before entering and closing it behind him. Almost immediately he felt the sudden absence of outside input that he was so used to filtering out as the protections around the Director’s office kicked in.

“Agent DiNozzo,” Vance greeted and the man seated opposite turned to look at Tony. 

“Director Vance, Vice President Kinsey,” Tony said, not betraying his surprise as he moved forward a few steps and came to a stop, waiting for an indication of what was expected from him. 

“I have a new assignment for you,” Vance told him, pushing a folder forward across the desk.

Tony hesitated, something about the tension in the room settling uncomfortably in his stomach more than it usually did. 

“I haven’t been cleared for anything more than desk duty.”

He kept his tone and expression as even and blank as he could, not letting any of his scepticism show. He’d just returned from being dragged to Israel for political reasons, his shoulder was still a mess, helped in no part by Eli or Ziva David, and that still wasn’t taking into account his less than stellar history with Directors assigning him undercover operations without his team’s knowledge. 

“Given your expertise, your return has been fast-tracked. The work you’ll be doing is desk work anyway,” Vance said and Tony glanced briefly at Kinsey, wondering what his part in all this was. It wasn’t often that they were visited by anyone higher than Secnav. “It shouldn’t take long. By the time you’re cleared for field work, it should be over.”

Tony raised an eyebrow at that, wondering if either man saw the absurdity of that. Even if he spent the entire time he was undercover sitting behind a desk it was still active duty. The level of stress and caution necessary were not conducive to a quick or easy recovery. 

“I’m sure we can count on your cooperation,” Kinsey with an ingratiating smile which set Tony’s teeth on edge.

Even if he hadn’t just had a stunning example of Vance being more than willing to throw him to the wolves if it benefited the Director, Tony wouldn’t have trusted either man very far. But he also realised that he had very little choice, not if the Vice President was also involved. That wasn’t to say he was without options. If things had been better between them, he might have approached Gibbs, but Gibbs hadn’t said a word about Israel either and something had happened on the tarmac just before they’d left that had Gibbs out of sorts. 

“Of course,” Tony said and he strode forward to take the file off the desk. 

“Take the rest of the day off,” Vance said with a smile that wasn’t at all reassuring.

...

Tony closed his apartment door behind him and dropped the file on his coffee table as he passed to go to the kitchen. He grabbed a beer from the fridge, twisted off the cap and breathed a moment before taking a long drink. It was barely lunch time and it was far too early to be drinking but it was either this or heading to the gym and his shoulder wouldn’t thank him for that. 

At least Gibbs had been gone when Tony had left the Director’s office, for which Tony was grateful. He wasn’t sure he felt up to dealing with the man’s scrutiny. McGee had had his head bent as he focused on his computer screen and didn’t even notice as Tony strode past and headed for the stairs. It was just as well, the idea of being thrust into the middle of a pissing match between Gibbs and the Director just made him feel tired. They could do it just as well in his absence. 

He sat down on the edge of the couch and flipped open the file, taking a moment to spread the pages out in front of him. Loxley, his fox spirit guide, named after Robin Hood and the Disney fox he’d adored as a child, jumped up and settled on the couch beside him, providing comfort with his presence. Tony had learned fairly early on that people couldn’t be relied on, but Loxley would never leave him.

Over the years he’d come to realise just how unusual fox spirit guides were, often to his detriment, and it was why he’d taken to pretending to be latent so that he’d never have to reveal him. Of course, the guides and sentinels Tony had heard about, none of them had animals who were manifestations of tricksters. But given his duality, his sentinel hearing, smell and sight, and his guide empathy, there were few other creatures as fitting. As far as he knew, he was an anomaly, the only one who didn’t fit either box, and it meant the community, even when they didn’t quite know what he was, still had trouble accepting him.

With a sigh, he turned back to the files. Beyond the vague understanding that Kinsey wanted him to investigate a new department of Homeland Security that seemed to answer directly to the Secretary of Defense and the President, Tony wasn’t entirely sure what they were looking for. Everything else about the department, including its employees, was classified top secret. 

The only employee that was in Tony’s file was a General George Hammond, the man who ran the department. There was a list of commendations that made the man seem nothing short of a hero and the uncomfortable feeling in Tony’s gut amplified. 

From what he could see, beyond the secret nature of the department and the unusual reporting structure, which NCIS really had no moral high ground with, there didn’t seem to be any compelling reason to investigate them. The only explanation that really made sense was that Kinsey wanted to expose whatever was going on beneath the cover story. While he’d never particularly liked Kinsey or his politics, it made him extremely uncomfortable to think that the Vice President was looking to sabotage a department of the government and Vance was happy to use Tony to do it. 

It wouldn’t be the first time a Director had used him to further their own ends, wouldn’t even be the first time Vance had. But there was only so much Tony could do from his current position and very few options that left him a way forward.


	2. Chapter 2

With a deep breath Tony headed for the first security check point. The Pentagon sprawled out before him and it struck Tony anew just how trapped he felt by the entire situation. Walking in there felt like he was walking to his doom, like he wouldn’t ever be able to leave, but he knew he was being ridiculous. 

“Agent Tony DiNozzo,” Tony told the security guard, flashing his credentials. He knew he would be expected, but that didn’t stop the need to go through all the red tape to get there. He signed in, handed over his wallet, badge and gun before stepping through the scanner. With a nod to the guard he retrieved his items and felt more assured with them secured back in place. 

He was uncomfortable with going undercover with his own identity, but that hadn’t been a choice either. Any fake history they could have come up with wouldn’t have stood up to the Pentagon’s scrutiny, especially for one of the more sensitive projects, so Vance and Kinsey likely hadn’t wanted to risk it. It was bad enough that his transfer had had to be pushed through in the limited time frame. 

“You’re early,” a man said, approaching him. 

“I like to be prepared, Lieutenant Colonel,” Tony said after a glance at the man’s shoulder to see his rank. He was by necessity more familiar with the navy, but you couldn’t work in conjunction with any branch of the military without picking up something about all of them.

“Paul Davies,” the man said, holding out a hand. The handshake was short and firm and in the brief contact Tony read nothing from him but benign affability that made him almost certain that Davies was probably very dangerous. 

“Tony DiNozzo,” Tony said in response, though Davies clearly knew that already. 

“If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you where you’ll be working.”

“Lead the way,” Tony said, falling into step when Davies turned and headed further into the building. Something about the man put Tony on edge just as much as it tried to draw him in and Tony could have kicked himself for not realising sooner that the feeling he was reading off the man was that of an unbonded guide. Davies didn’t passively read his environment like most guides; he kept himself contained much like Tony did, only unavoidably sensing information from others when in contact. It was one of the many conditions under which guides and sentinels could work on classified projects. 

They were caught up in another check point for a moment before Davies led him to a large office. There were at least a dozen people working diligently in the room and, beyond them, there was a half-glass wall and another security access point. 

“You’ll be working over there,” Davies told him, indicating one of the few empty desks. “You won’t have access to much just yet, but Sergeant Alice Patterson will show you what to do. At some point, General Hammond will want to talk to you.”

The woman sitting at the desk next to the empty one nodded politely to both of them as she stood up to greet them. 

“Colonel Davies,” Patterson said before turning to Tony. “I’ve been working on identifying military installations from UAV data.”

Tony couldn’t think of anything more mind-numbing even as he nodded. 

“Given your background, we’ll start you with analysing profiles. We have to periodically check potential targets against a fairly specific profile.” She gave them a wry smile. “Megalomaniacal, narcissistic, sociopathic.”

“Have you looked at the Hill?” Tony offered blandly. Davies raised an eyebrow but Patterson smirked. He dropped down into the chair and let Patterson show him how to navigate the system. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” Davies said after watching them for a moment before he disappeared into the more secure area of the office. Tony’s gaze followed him through the glass as he met with Hammond coming out of his own office. The two men talked, their body language muted and turned toward each other as they leaned in for what was clearly a quiet but intense conversation. He didn’t drop his gaze when they glanced in his direction, not immediately, because that would be more suspicious, but he did turn back to hear what Patterson was telling him.

...

Over the next two weeks, Tony cultivated his friendships with those around the office. He brought donuts in for everyone on his second day, got to know the security staff the same way he’d done at the Navy Yard so that he’d be included in the inevitable spread of office gossip that could be a treasure trove of information, he’d even got himself invited out to lunch with a few of the other analysts, but with Patterson most frequently. 

Perhaps more important than any of that, he’d managed to strike up something of a... not quite a friendship, but a little more than an acquaintance with Davies. It had taken very little to realise that everyone in the office was fiercely loyal to Hammond, no one more so than Davies, and that Kinsey was up to something no doubt nefarious and this was all going to blow back on Tony in some uncomfortable or painful way later. But it was nothing he hadn’t already reasoned.

The other thing he’d come to see was that Davies was the nerve centre of the office. There was no information, no intelligence, that didn’t go through him. If Tony wanted to fulfil Kinsey’s mission, then Davies was undoubtedly the key. Not for the first time, Tony contemplated doing considerable damage to his professional achievements and outing himself as an undercover operative just so that he couldn’t still be in the position he was. 

“DiNozzo,” Davies offered as passed Tony in the corridor leading to their offices.

“Davies,” Tony said. “Heading out?”

The analysts usually kept reasonable hours, but the core office team, the ones who really knew the top secret stuff, seemed to be called in at all hours, though for what purpose or what emergencies, Tony didn’t know. Certainly, nothing appeared on the news, not even a hint of a story. And that was somehow more worrying than secret operations in foreign countries, but not quite enough for Tony to be a willing shill for Kinsey’s agenda.

“Yes,” Davies said, slowing to a stop and then turning to fully face Tony. 

“Long night?” Tony asked casually, taking in the wrinkled shirt that was starting to become untucked at the back and less than perfectly styled hair. He hadn’t known him long, but it was clear to Tony that Davies was only at his less than best when he’d come out the other side of something catastrophic. 

Davies simply raised an eyebrow and Tony knew he wasn’t going to be getting any answers from him today. Tony didn’t bother with a charming smile and a benign press for more information, which was probably why after two weeks he hadn’t pieced together anything more than a few stray bits of information and some strange conclusions that he wasn’t willing to put any credence to just yet. 

“Agent DiNozzo?” a far too familiar voice questioned and Tony turned, keeping his posture loose and casual, no matter that he wanted to tense up like a schoolboy caught out of bounds at night. 

“Director Morrow.”

He could feel Davies’ eyes on him and part of him hoped that this would be enough to blow his cover and get him off the case, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to deliberately sabotage himself. 

“I hadn’t anticipated seeing you here,” Morrow continued. “Are you working an investigation?”

Morrow’s gaze glanced over Davies before settling back on Tony and he frowned, ever so slightly. Morrow was the Director of Homeland Security these days. Any investigation NCIS might have had would invariably have had to go through him, especially since Hammond’s department ostensibly ran as part of Morrow’s agency.

“No, sir.”

When Tony didn’t elaborate, Morrow raised an eyebrow. It was as close to an outright confession as Tony could let himself give. If Tony had to choose between Vance and Morrow, his loyalty would always be to Morrow who had been the best, most stable boss Tony had had at NCIS. Which was rather sad actually. 

“Of course,” Morrow said after a moment. “It was very good to see you again, Agent DiNozzo. If it’s not an inconvenience, I would appreciate the opportunity to catch up. I hear there have been quite a few changes recently.”

“Of course, sir,” Tony said, some of the tension in his shoulders easing. He now had an out, he just had to decide when and how to use it. 

“Colonel Davies,” Morrow said, giving the man a nod in passing. “Agent DiNozzo.”

Tony could feel the weight of Davies’ calculating gaze on him, but it was hardly a new feeling and he’d long become inured to suspicious or disapproving looks. 

“Director,” both men murmured before they went their separate ways. 

...

Tony glanced up when he saw Davies return just over five hours later, looking significantly more put together. He barely glanced in Tony’s direction as he headed for the glass partition. Tony focused on his screen as he scrolled through the information they’d given him to go over.

It had started with matching cult leaders and terrorists, even titans of industry, to the profile they’d compiled. While he’d been doing that, others had been looking over UAV data and he’d managed to sneak a few peeks here and there. The data had always come from UAVs, not satellites, and the pictures he’d glimpse hadn’t been any identifiable landmasses and landmarks he’d seen. Some had had large ruins and pyramids that Tony was positive didn’t exist anywhere on Earth. Especially after he’d done more research into ancient cultural sites than he ever thought he’d need.

He sensed Loxley, not so much a physical presence as an awareness in the back of his head. He glanced down to see the fox settled at his feet and looking up at him with what Tony could only imagine was expectancy. Tony glanced around the office, aware that there were several sentinels and guides, and his file marked him as latent. 

Still, he felt like he was on the edge of something. There was some threat that the department was dealing with, something huge, something that had them facing emergencies on a semi-regular basis, but there were no news stories, not even hints of them, nor even cover stories to correspond. And there was a sense of camaraderie and obligation and a sort of coiled tension he usually associated with war zones in the department, particularly among those with a higher clearance. 

Given the traffic of people he’d seen come through the office, all with a variety of accents whose identification indicated they were with something called IOA. Whatever they were doing, it was a lot bigger than anyone had indicated to Tony. Whatever it was, it had world-wide implications and that was way bigger than anything Tony had ever dealt with.

Loxley chuffed at his feet and Tony leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, letting the pieces float around and recombine in his mind for a while. There was only one conclusion he kept coming to, but it didn’t make any sense and he was rebelling against it with everything in him. Because the idea that this was all happening on another planet, at least one other planet, was insane. Tony might like his movies, he might draw parallels to his cases, but this was far beyond him. And the idea that Kinsey was involved left him cold. 

He didn’t trust that man with the country, he wouldn’t even trust him with house-sitting. There was no way he’d trust Kinsey with something like this, which meant by extension he couldn’t trust Vance, but that was hardly a new feeling. Tony stood, Loxley twisting around his feet before disappearing, and he looked over to Patterson. 

“I need to make a call,” he told her, already reaching for his cell and heading for the door. She barely acknowledged him with a nod.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony stepped out of the building on his way to meet with Morrow off-site, a compromise Morrow had agreed to when Tony admitted that he couldn’t be sure who exactly could be trusted. Not when he was still trying to feel his way around the edges of the biggest secret the government had ever kept and he was fairly certain the VP was in the wrong. 

His hand settled at his hip, near his gun, as a dark car with tinted windows pulled up in front of him. He shifted his stance, prepared to leap out of the way should it become necessary, but he was also aware that the road he was on, intended to hide his route and visit to Morrow, was also entirely without cameras and only a handful of passersby. The back window rolling down and presenting not a gun but a tight, phony smile, didn’t relax him at all. 

“Mr Vice President.”

“Agent DiNozzo,” Kinsey greeted in a tone that was supposed to be friendly, Tony was sure, but just sent an uncomfortable shiver down Tony’s spine. “Would you care to join me?”

Tony knew an order when he heard it.

“Of course,” Tony agreed even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. Had Kinsey found out about his meeting with Morrow? Would this little trip end with him unemployed and blacklisted in DC and law enforcement at best? Or with a bullet in his head and a shallow grave at worst?

He kept his posture loose and unassuming as he climbed in beside Kinsey, giving the man a benign smile. The emotional sensation reminded him of nothing so much as dumpster diving for one of his cases. He was doing this for the same reasons; because it was necessary. 

“How can I help you, Mr Vice President?” Tony asked, trying not to tense as the doors locked and the car drove off. He was uncomfortably reminded of Le Grenouille and the trip that should have ended with him in little pieces on the asphalt. 

“I was expecting some progress by now,” Kinsey said, oily smile never wavering.

“I’ve been making connections in the department. They’ve just started to trust me with some of the more sensitive information.”

Tony wasn’t about to tell Kinsey that he hadn’t been pushing as hard as he might have and there was absolutely no way he would be trusted with anything serious without being brought fully into the project, which wasn’t likely to happen any time soon. Kinsey didn’t seem like the kind of man who took bad news well. If Tony had his way, Kinsey wouldn’t get any news at all. 

“Mostly I’ve been working on profiles. I managed to sneak a look at some of the telemetry, but there wasn’t anything identifiable,” he added, attempting to look helpful and eager to impress the Vice President when he was just the opposite. 

“Good, good,” Kinsey said dismissively. “What about Hammond?”

“Sir?” 

“Hammond!” Kinsey snarled before realising he was overplaying his hand. He took a moment to straighten his tie and then continued more sedately. “That man is a traitor to this good country. He consorts with our enemies, sharing information and access he has no right to. He has endangered this country more times than I can count.”

“I understand, sir,” Tony said, watching the man carefully. He’d had suspects lash out suddenly with fewer signs that they were close to the edge. “I’ll make that my focus.”

“You do that,” Kinsey told him and the car came to a stop.

“You can count on me, sir,” Tony said as he stepped out of the car, not even caring where they’d ended up. The door shut without Kinsey responding and Tony kept his back and shoulders straight until he’d turned a corner, then he leaned against the closest wall and let out a shaky breath. He needed a shower after that. 

“Agent DiNozzo,” a voice said and Tony opened his eyes to see Davies watching him impassively. He glanced around properly to see he’d been dropped back near the Pentagon. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“Yes,” Tony said, shoulders relaxing as he decided to take a leap, even as he noted Davies’ confusion. “I had a meeting with Morrow that I’m definitely late for now, but General Hammond should probably be there as well.”

Davies raised an eyebrow.  
...

“Agent DiNozzo,” Morrow said from across the table, gaze calm and measured. So different from Jenny’s manipulation or anger and Vance’s disdain. Hammond sat one chair away from him, his expression as severe and disapproving as when he’d entered with Davies on his heels. Davies was now stationed outside the room doing damage control. 

“Director. General.”

He was in the inner sanctum now. Behind the glass and security, tucked away in a conference room. Even if he had backup, which he didn’t, again, they wouldn’t be able to get to him, but it was the safest he’d felt in weeks. 

“I believe you had something you wanted to tell.”

Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair before looking up to meet Morrow’s gaze again. He was silent a moment but there really wasn’t anything to consider; he’d already made his choice. 

“Just over two weeks ago Director Vance called me into his office. Vice President Kinsey was there,” Tony said. He paused, gathering his thoughts. “They had a case they wanted me to take, investigating a department of Homeland Security that was operating outside of its command.” Here Tony paused again, glancing at Hammond before returning his gaze to Morrow. “He called General Hammond a traitor.”

“I see,” Morrow said slowly and Tony had a feeling he really did. He exhaled slowly, unaccountably emotional at the thought of a supervisor who might understand the position he was in and not try to use him. Morrow narrowed his eyes. “You seem resigned to your situation. This isn’t the first time your superior has used you. Vance?”

Tony had to consciously relax his jaw when his teeth began to hurt, but there was little point in replying to a statement of fact. 

“Shepard?”

Tony kept his silence, because he was just as much to blame for that clusterfuck as she was. He could have gone to HR or Morrow. He could have turned down the op, or refused to continue it. Whatever reasons he’d had for not doing any of those things – loyalty, pride, ignorance – he wasn’t sure it was worth it. 

“I see,” Morrow said again, without inflection. 

Tony felt Loxley settle against his leg and he focused on his breathing as he walled away his regret and uncertainty. There was too much on the line already without projecting his status to any nearby guides or sentinels. 

“What happened to your arm?” Morrow asked leaning forward. 

“Fractured,” Tony said, with an exasperated grimace because if he wasn’t going to be able to entirely hide his tells from Morrow then at least he could throw out enough to hopefully confuse the man. 

“How?” Morrow continued undeterred.

“I was following up on a case.”

“As far as the Centre is aware, you’re on desk duty,” Morrow said. Tony was reminded that before he became a Director, Morrow was an agent, and before that he was a lawyer. 

“Yes,” Tony said, but didn’t elaborate. The incongruity was clear and explaining hadn’t been particularly helpful in the past. Besides, one didn’t throw the Director of a federal agency under the bus without severe consequences. He also didn’t like anyone looking too closely into what the Centre thought of him.

“Vance,” Morrow said with a sigh. Tony didn’t reply. His silence was answer enough. 

“Alright, Agent DiNozzo,” Morrow said, becoming business-like again. “I believe I have a sufficient grasp of the situation. If I’m right, no one is going to be happy, least of all me.”

“Of course, sir,” Tony said with a hint of his usual humour. 

“First order of business is to get you out of the way.”

Tony glanced down at his hands, letting Loxley’s presence bolster him before he looked up again. 

“Why are you helping me, sir?” he asked. 

“I’m fully aware of your capabilities, Agent DiNozzo. If you wanted to, you would have connived or charmed your way to far more sensitive information than you accessed.”

“Sir?”

“Coy doesn’t become you, DiNozzo.” Morrow was silent a moment before he turned to Hammond who was looking a lot less forbidding, more resigned and disappointed. “Can we get the Colonel to bring the NDAs?”

“Of course, sir,” Hammond said, the look he gave Tony was piercing as he stood to go speak with Davies outside. 

“And it might be a good idea to get SG1.”

“I was afraid it would come to that,” Hammond said, but he was smiling fondly. 

“Sir, are you sure I’m the one you want for this?” Tony asked. Finding out what the project was really about felt like placing him right in the middle of everything when all he wanted was to get out. Unfortunately, he knew he was already there. This might just let him be proactive about it. 

“Trust me, son,” Morrow said, eyes twinkling as he smiled briefly at Tony. “You’ll want in on this.”

“Alright,” Tony said when Hammond dropped a stack of papers and a pen in front of him. It had been a long time since someone had put faith in him. That it was Morrow wasn’t too surprising; the man had always seemed to see potential in him, even when it was Gibbs dragging Tony away from Baltimore, a little broken and a lot cynical. Not as much had changed since then as he would have liked. 

Tony read carefully through the documents placed in front of him, ignoring the feel of Morrow’s and Hammond’s eyes on him periodically as they waited for SG1, whatever that was. The other two men talked quietly between themselves, too softly for Tony make out anything distinct beyond the tense tone and serious expressions. 

He’d just finished signing the last page when he started to hear a sharp whine and he couldn’t help but wince. A moment later, there was a flash of light and then it faded leaving four extra people in the room. Tony was up out of his chair, reaching for a gun that had been taken from him when he'd entered the higher security area. 

The older man rested a hand on his own gun, not drawing it just yet, as the large African American man with the gold tattoo on his forehead stepped in front of the younger man and the woman. 

“Stand down, Agent DiNozzo,” Morrow said, rising as well. “They’re with us.”

“Oh my god,” Tony said, easing his defensive posture at that. “That was Star Trek level transporting. It really is aliens. I mean, I’d figured out the whole other planets thing, but that had to be alien technology. We’re just nowhere near that advanced.”

“Something like that,” the older man agreed amicably, though his hand remained on his gun. He looked past Tony to Morrow and Hammond. “The usual meet and greet?”

“Director Morrow has decided that Agent DiNozzo will be brought in on the project,” Hammond said and Tony could sense his disapproval even if he hadn’t been able to hear it. Tony couldn’t blame him, not when all Hammond would know about him was that Kinsey had put him on his project. 

“Danny, do your thing,” the older man said as he headed over to Hammond. The man with the tattoo stood with his arms folded as he watched over them. The younger man approached him holding out his hand to shake. As soon as their hands touched, Tony felt something shift inside him and he knew the man felt it too when his eyes widened behind his glasses. There was a growl of a large cat that cut off when the man abruptly released his hand. The man ducked his head, briefly hiding the brightest blue eyes Tony had ever seen. 

“I’m Daniel Jackson. This is Samantha Carter, Teal’c and Jack O’Neill.”

“Two ‘L’s,” the older man said with a quick grin before turning back to Morrow and Hammond. 

“Let me tell you about the most important endeavour in human history,” Daniel said, taking a folder out of the bag slung over his shoulder. 

“You don’t have to go for the hard sell,” Tony told him with a grin. “I think this is pretty much my last option.”

Jackson gave him a short look that was half a roll of his eyes. 

“Unless you want to be Kinsey’s flying monkey?”

“I don’t know, I always fancied myself more of a Kronk-style henchman.”

“I don’t think you have the shoulders to pull it off.”

Tony gave a surprised laugh, delighted that the other man knew the reference to The Emperor’s New Groove and was willing to play along, and gestured for Jackson and Carter to join him at the table. 

“Lay it on me,” he said as they all took their seats. “If I’m taking a flying leap down the rabbit hole, I should probably know what’s awaiting me at the bottom.”

“There isn’t much that’s going to soften that landing,” Carter said.

“Especially at the moment,” Jackson added.

Tony nodded, mostly in assurance to himself that he was ready for this, and leaned forward. As amazing as the discovery of an organised participation in galactic events was, Tony had realised that it could only be naive to assume that it was all positive and beneficial. There were always drawbacks. In his experience, it was still better to be prepared.

“Let’s start with Giza, 1928,” Carter said.


	4. Chapter 4

Tony let the team hustle him to a corner of the room, his mind stewing over the details he’d been told. It was all so much bigger than he’d considered, bigger than he could even imagine. The Goa’uld, the Asgard, Anubis, and the Ancients. There were battles being fought, battles that spanned thousands of years, right above his head.

He was barely paying attention when O’Neill radioed someone and then the world went white. There was barely time to catch sight of a grey bulkhead of what looked like a ship, or his breath, before it happened again. He pressed his hands to his ears, trying to drown out the whine that dug into his brain. He squeezed his eyes shut and dropped to his knees, trying to pull his senses back under his control.

“Breathe, Agent DiNozzo.”

Tony finally became aware of calloused fingers wrapped around his wrist and a low, soothing voice speaking softly. He lowered his hands slowly, ridiculously grateful that Jackson didn’t release his wrist.

“That’s better,” Jackson said, and Tony opened his eyes, his gaze drawn immediately to the other’s bright blue eyes. “Almost there.”

“Thought you were latent,” O’Neill said casually and Jackson’s gaze cut from Tony’s to glare briefly at the Colonel, before returning to Tony.

“Just sight and sound,” Tony told him, reluctant to break the connection to Jackson. He’d never felt so at ease with other guides and sentinels, had never felt so grounded despite his collapse, and he was reluctant to let that go. But he rocked back, letting Jackson’s fingers slip away from him, and got to his feet. Sentinels usually disregarded him when they heard he was latent, but guides were a different matter altogether and no matter what his instincts were telling him, he couldn’t afford to give in to them now. “I’m alright now.”

“Good,” Jackson said, sounding a little too relieved. The grit of O’Neill’s jaw softened though he didn’t shift his gaze from Tony who has the feeling if he’d rejected Jackson in some way that O’Neill would find a way to make him pay, Morrow be damned. Jackson stepped closer to him, like he couldn’t help himself, but didn’t reach out for him again. “Active sentinels do tend to have a rather bad reaction to transporting, but we didn’t think it would affect a latent so strongly.”

Tony shrugged, not exactly wanting to address that and draw attention to the anomaly that was his status. He’d managed to work as a cop and with a high level clearance as a Fed without anyone finding out, he could manage a super secret government project when he had no other options.

“Welcome to Stargate Command,” O’Neill said, stepping forward.

Tony turned to take in the grey walls of what appeared to be a conference room. It wasn’t all that different from the grey bulkhead he’d briefly glimpsed and it might be as bland as humanly possible, but at least it wasn’t vibrant orange. There was a large window across one wall and through it Tony could see a large metal ring with symbols along its arc. He moved toward it as though drawn inexorably forward without realising.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” he asked, not looking away. “That’s the Stargate.”

“Yup,” O’Neill said, shoving his hands into his pockets and bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“It’s beautiful,” Tony said. “I didn’t think it would be beautiful.”

“Wait until you see it in action,” Carter said with a indulgent smile as though she never got tired of seeing people’s reactions to the Gate. Tony figured there was a reason she’d made it her life’s work. That they all had.

Beside him, Jackson folded his arms as he looked down at the Gate and smiled.

“Ancient technology does tend to be both practical and aesthetically pleasing,” he said. “When the Goa’uld retrofitted it, they focused on utilitarianism and intimidation.”

Everything that he’d learned over the last few hours whirled around his brain so that he couldn’t linger or focus on any specific thought for too long. There was so much more he needed to know too. The way Jackson and Carter had spoken about this technology, the way O’Neill didn’t seem at ease until he was back at the SGC, all spoke of an ease and familiarity with what they were dealing with that meant long years of experience. Ten at least from what he remembered of the talk he’d been given. Only a couple years longer than he’d been at NCIS.

The door opened and Tony turned to face a red-haired woman with a solemn expression. Her gaze swept the room before landing on him and she strode forward to shake his hand.

“Agent DiNozzo,” she said, gaze shifting to a welcoming smile that made him think she must be an excellent liar. “I’m Doctor Elizabeth Weir, civilian director of this facility. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Doctor Weir,” he greeted with a sheepish smile. “I’m not exactly sure what I’m supposed to be doing here.”

After Morrow had thrown him into the project, Tony hadn’t really had a chance to ask what form his participation would take, if it would differ from his cover at all. He’d just been so overwhelmed by the new information.

“From what I understand from Director Morrow, there’s an investigation to conduct,” she said, placing a hand lightly at his shoulder and guiding him to her office.

Tony wasn’t under any illusion that they trusted him. Morrow might, but Hammond had no reason to, not when it was his office infiltrated. The idea of having to prove himself, not just from a neutral place where they didn’t have an opinion of him yet, but from the disadvantage of having worked for their enemy, was daunting. But he’d worked with less. He’d proven himself to the mob when they’d killed all the undercover operatives before him and he’d proven himself as good looking, university graduate from a wealthy background to a bunch of blue collar cops. He’d even proven himself to his fellow NCIS agents when he’d been promoted to Senior Field Agent of the premier Major Crimes team after only a year. He could do it again.

“I’ll see if Agent Barrett has any information,” Carter said as she excused herself.

"He's with the NID, but the nice ones," Jackson said in an aside.

“I’d like to get you situated as soon as possible,” Weir continued.

“Certification for Gate travel will have to wait until you’re healed,” O’Neill added.

“Gate travel?”

Tony was only just starting to process the idea of the Gate itself. Thinking of travelling through it himself was a just a step too far for the moment.

“Sure. NID’s managed to station themselves off-world more than once. And sometimes we’re pulled into local investigations and could really use an expert the matter,” O’Neill said.

“And your profiling will be useful when faced with more than potential infiltrators on Earth. We can combine expertise to get a clearer picture of the galaxy’s power structures,” Jackson said, smiling and wide-eyed in a way that made Tony’s heart beat a little faster. “My information is usually a few millennia out of date.”

With a sinking feeling Tony realised he found the man utterly charming. The instances of cutting sarcasm when he let his cynical sense of humour show only made it worse.

“Can’t wait,” he said faintly.

Carter appeared in the doorway and gave a perfunctory knock, barely waiting for Weir’s gesture to enter, before she came to stand at parade rest in front of the desk.

“Agent Barrett says Kinsey met with one of the rogue NID operatives they’ve been investigating. They followed the operative back to a facility they haven’t been able to infiltrate yet,” she said.

“I want in,” Tony said immediately.

“Not with your injury,” O’Neill said. Carter shifted on her feet and cleared her throat, but O’Neill shook his head. Tony wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that exchange, but he knew enough to realise he’d been denied an opportunity.

“I know what to look for,” Tony said. O’Neill gave him an unimpressed look. “Besides, they’re the one who pulled me into this.”

Weir gave him a shrewd look and he withstood her scrutiny. This was apparently what he was there for.

“Very well,” she said finally. O’Neill didn’t directly object, but he did cross his arms, expression mulish.

“Fine, but you’re staying out the way until we’ve cleared the facility,” O’Neill conceded.

“Absolutely,” Tony agreed easily, just glad to be included in the process and not shoved into a corner until someone was willing to deal with him. O’Neill rolled his eyes.

“I can already tell you’re going to be trouble.”  
  


...  
  


Tony found himself standing by one of the SUVs while the team, even the scientists, and their allies breached the facility. It was an uncharitable thought, Tony knew and he could recognise he was being petty because he hated having no control over his situation. Carter was a Colonel in her own right and Jackson was clearly capable given the respect and deference of those around him. Not to mention, years on a field team had done no harm to his fitness.

He leaned against the car door and adjusted his sling. His shoulder was starting to ache, but he didn’t want to take anything for it, not when it would mess him up and he was trying to prove something, if not to the team then at least to himself.

There wasn’t any sound of gunfire, but he’d seen their strange weapons. He had a vague idea of what they were capable of from Jackson’s introduction, but that was different from seeing them in action. At least in the privacy of his own head he could admit that O’Neill was right about him needing to requalify, not just after his injury, but with the weapons the Stargate Project used and what he was likely to encounter in the course of his work.

Just when he was convinced he’d miss anything exciting, a small window opened, likely from a bathroom or storeroom, and pale face poked out. The man didn’t seem to notice him as he scrambled up and shoved his head and shoulders out the window.

Tony watched the man try to wiggle his way out of the slightly too small window. He wandered nearer, the struggling man unaware as he finally fell to the ground in a heap, chest heaving with sobbing breaths. When he did eventually look up to see Tony standing there, gun pointed at him, he let loose a little high-pitched whine before collapsing back on the ground.

He kept him there, not that there was much objection from the resigned man, until O’Neill and team regrouped outside. O’Neill raised an eyebrow when he saw Tony, but jogged over, the team on his heels.

“I believe I found something of yours,” Tony said, gesturing absently at the NID scientist.

“We’ll put him with the others,” Carter said and she and Teal’c hauled the man to his feet and then back inside.

“You get everyone?” Tony asked.

“Pretty much. A couple of them ringed away, but we’ve got the Prometheus in orbit to catch any ships,” Jackson answered.

“I recognise one of them,” O’Neill said, arms folded and eyes narrowed as he spoke to Jackson. Clearly whatever history he had with the person hadn’t been good. “He was with the Air Force when I was going through basic. They got rid of him when they discovered he was conducting unethical experiments on sentinel and guides.”

“Jack,” Jackson said with a frown, concern obvious.

“Not me,” O’Neill was quick to assure him. “I had too many people keeping track of what I was doing; friends, family.”

Tony shuddered and pulled his coat tighter around himself. He hadn’t realised O’Neill was a sentinel or guide, though he guessed sentinel from the man’s demeanour, which could only mean he was dormant and that usually meant something seriously traumatic.

“Is the scene clear for me to go through?” Tony asked, changing the conversation without even the pretense at subtlety.

“Sure,” O’Neill said. “But I want one of my guys with you in case the NID were playing around with something hazardous.”

O’Neill reminded him of Gibbs. Well, Gibbs with a sense of humour. Some may think his age was a disadvantage, but Tony knew that his experience probably just made him far more dangerous. He wasn’t someone Tony wanted as an enemy. While he usually played a little fast and loose with the rules, or at least his interpretation of them, he wasn’t willing to sabotage whatever chance he might have.

“Of course.”

“I’ll go,” Jackson volunteered, earning a shrewd look from O’Neill.

“Get Teal’c as well,” O’Neill insisted and he looked to Tony who nodded seriously. He wouldn’t let anything happen to Jackson. Not that he needed the implied threat. Whatever part of him that was sentinel was entirely focused on the man and his well-being.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm back. At least a little bit.
> 
> I realised I messed up the timeline a bit, but just pretend Weir took over a couple days earlier than canon.

Daniel looked at Tony as they walked together to the facility.

"So, what's with the sling?" Daniel asked, voice mild as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Tony watched him for a long moment. He didn't get the feeling of Daniel pressing in on him like most people, especially guides. He breathed out, something inside him uncoiling in a way it never did around sentinels and guides.

"Fracture," he said without elaborating.

"I thought Paul said you were an investigator?"

"Yeah, Senior Special Agent, NCIS."

Tony wondered where the line of questioning was going, what Daniel expected from him. If nothing else, Tony thought Daniel would make an excellent interrogator. He was mild, disarming and painfully sincere which, when mixed with a startling intellect, meant he was a force to be reckoned with. Even without using his guide talents he had a way of reaching people.

"And you were injured on the job?" Daniel asked as they entered the facility, Teal’c falling into step just behind them having clearly been informed that his presence was necessary. The large man inclined his head at them in greeting and Tony nodded back. Daniel directed him down the stairs with a brief touch to his elbow. Being near him was like being near an exposed power source, it made his skin tingle and his hair stand on end.

"Something like that," Tony said, hand twitching as he wanted to adjust his sling, but that was far too much of a tell to give away.

"Shouldn't you be on medical leave?" Daniel asked as they pushed through the door at the bottom of the stairs. This must be where they’d set up their lab. There were several computers and some devices Tony only vaguely recognised as analytical. Teal’c moved to stand at rest beside the door, out of the way of their investigation, but available should they need him. 

"Only when they force me."

Tony's smile was tight and hard and brittle, closer to a grimace than a smile and he wiped it away quickly fearing he'd already revealed too much. Daniel glanced at him, looking pensive, and hummed noncommittally, giving nothing away. Tony could feel the weight of Teal’c’s gaze on him, sharp and focused like pins and needles. 

"Try not to touch any strange devices," Daniel said instead. "We don't want to end up in another phase of existence. Or with the knowledge of an entire civilisation downloaded in our brains."

Tony looked at him for a long moment before he nodded, taking the light-hearted warning seriously. Although now he was itching to get his hands on their mission reports. He turned to sweep the room, gaze settling briefly on the mess scattered across the counters and the half-shredded document someone had tried to destroy when the SGC had startled them. 

“We’ll get the files and harddrives collected for you, and a copy sent to our scientists,” Daniel told him. Tony nodded. He’d need some sort of consultation for the scientific information anyway since his understanding of it would be limited at best.

"Do you have any sentinels or guides on your investigation team?" Tony asked as he walked along the counter, glancing over the paperwork and shifting it around to see if there was anything that would spark a connection for him.

"It's usually a handful of scientists from Area 51, maybe an airman or a marine," Daniel told him. "I don't think any of them are sentinels. There might be a guide or two."

“Hmm,” Tony responded absently as he moved through the space. It was something that would need to be addressed. A project with as large a scope as the SGC couldn’t rely on what were essentially untrained amateurs, even if they were experts in their fields. There was something intruding on his senses but he couldn’t entirely pinpoint what. He began to move more deliberately until Daniel stopped his meandering and turned to look.

"You don't feel that?" Tony asked, before catching himself, but Daniel shook his head. Tony wondered how any guide, even moderately gifted, couldn't pick up on the uncomfortable void in his sense of the space.

"No," Daniel said, expression mulish as he inspected the room, deliberately not looking at Tony. Tony opened his mouth to question and then closed it again, well aware of how little he liked to be pushed about his gifts. It was possible it was some combination of Tony’s sentinel gifts sensing something and needing his guide gifts to interpret it. Teal'c moved to stand with them now that something unusual had presented itself, his presence like solid stone as it carved through Tony's sense of the room.

"There should be something here," Tony told them, striding toward the affected area. "Look for a break in the wall, a latch or a switch. Something that'll get us access."

Before he'd even finished speaking, Daniel was at his side doing a systematic sweep. Tony couldn't help but be impressed.

"I spent a lifetime exploring tombs, traps and secret rooms even before the SGC," Daniel said.

"Archaeologist, right?" Tony asked. Daniel hummed the affirmative even as he moved further along the wall, brow furrowed in concentration.

"My parents were archaeologists too. I spent most of my childhood on digs in Egypt," Daniel told him, hands running along the wall.

"That must have been..." Tony started then trailed off. He wanted to say 'cool', but all he could imagine was a kid surrounded by strange people and cultures. Even if he found them fascinating it must have been lonely to always be on the outside. Daniel looked up at him then, expression searching.

"Complicated?" he offered finally with a wry smile.

“Hey, no judgement,” Tony said, because he was the last person to judge how conventional someone else’s childhood was. If anything, he envied that Daniel’s parents wanted to keep him close.

“I think I found something,” Daniel told him, pushing at a section of wall. It pushed back a bit and then slid sideways.

The smell was the first thing Tony noticed; sickness and decay, fear. Nothing good had happened in that room. Tony’s gaze swept the room as he fought the urge to gag and the lingering feeling of misery and pain that exuded from every inch of the space. On one side of the room was a blanket on the floor and a toilet. A chain connected to a heavy metal ring sunk into the floor lay across the blanket. On the other side of the room there was a body on an autopsy table.

"Alright?" Daniel asked coming to stand close enough that Tony could feel his body heat even if they weren't touching.

"Fine," he said but didn't move away. His gaze was drawn again to the body that was laid out on the table and he knew from what his senses were telling him that this was where the man had spent the last weeks or months of his life, just these two rooms, being experimented on. “We need to find out how they blocked this room from sentinel and guide senses.”

“I believe this might be what you’re looking for,” Teal’c said, staring at a small device next to the door. 

“Looks Ancient,” Daniel said, squinting as he peered at the device. “But someone’s modified it. Sam will be able to tell us more once she’s had a look at it.”

The small device looked smooth and white underneath a mess of soldering and wires. Tony assumed the latter were the modifications the NID had made because what little he'd seen of Ancient technology far more closely resembled the former. 

"Not easy to get a hold of, then," Tony said. "Is there some way we can track where it came from?"

"Everyone's searched when they come through the Gate, so it's not easy to smuggle technology onto Earth. It should have gone through Area 51," Daniel told him, turning to face him. "But that means NID has likely infiltrated Area 51 again. We’ll have records back at the base. I’ll get Jack to give you access."

Tony nodded. 

“And you have someone who conducts autopsies?”

“Doctor Lam. She’s the Chief Medical Officer.”

Tony nodded again, determinedly not looking at the body and everything it represented. 

"O'Neill will want to know," Teal'c said.

"Jack's not going to like this at all," Daniel said quickly, taking a step back.

"Guess it's my job then," Tony sighed. As easy-going as the colonel had seemed, nobody liked to hear that their people had turned on them, whether it was by choice or coercion. Either meant that there was a blind spot in your command, an opening that could be, and had been, exploited.

He very carefully didn't look at the body and covered the shiver running down his spine by striding out of the room. He didn't relax and didn't stop until he was back in the stairwell and realised he didn't know where O'Neill likely was anymore. Daniel trotted to his side, already talking into his radio to ascertain the colonel's location.

"Come on," he said with a brief touch to Tony's elbow again. “We should get back to the others.”

Standard guide behaviour for a sentinel they were compatible with, indicating support and grounding touch, but no one had ever behaved in any standard waywith Tony before and he tensed before following at a small distance. Teal'c followed behind. If either man noticed his reaction, neither showed it. They climbed the stairs to the ground floor and Daniel led them through several corridors until they pushed through a final door and they found O’Neill, a handful of marines, and the collected and restrained NID agents and scientists.

"They're ready for transport, sir," one of the marines told O'Neill.

"Alright," O'Neill said. "Send the first group."

Several of the NID agents disappeared in a flash of light and a whine that left Tony wincing.

“We’ll need some of Sam’s people to collect what’s down there,” Daniel told O’Neill, his expression turning grim. “And some of Doctor Lam’s people too.”

O’Neill searched his expression for a moment before he nodded.

“I take it they made a mess,” he said flippantly, but his mouth was drawn in a disapproving line. Tony could understand his impulse to distance himself from the situation with humour, would usually use it himself if something about the scene hadn't put him so on edge, so he didn’t make comment.

"Anthony DiNozzo Jr," one of the NID scientists said and Tony froze at that voice. It had been years, decades even, since he'd heard it but it still had the power to reduce him to little more than a terrified child.

"I remember you," the voice continued. "We worked very well together."

Tony forced himself to breathe in and to move forward without reacting. He could feel eyes on him, judging his reaction, their curiosity and attention pressing in on him from all sides. His heart pounded in his chest and his blood rushed through his ear. His hands shook so badly he had to ball them into fists to hide the tremors.

"Colonel," Tony said, voice sounding flat and distant to his own ears. "We're almost done here."

"Do they know what you can do?" the scientist continued undeterred.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Tony said through teeth gritted so hard his jaw hurt. The scientist grinned then, triumphant.

"I could have done so much with you," he said, letting one of the marines push him into position.

Tony flinched when O'Neill grabbed his arm, pushing Tony behind him, but he let the dormant sentinel protect him, the worst of his panic and fear fading at the gesture.

"Get them out of here," O'Neill ordered. There was another flash and whine as they were beamed away and then Tony stumbled away, needing to get away from the scrutiny under which he found himself.

"I need some air," Tony said, turning and all but fleeing. He could feel O'Neill's surprise and suspicion skimming across the surface of his mind and he shut off as much of his abilities as he could. This was why he avoided working with sentinels and guides. Inevitably they realised there was something wrong with him, that their instincts didn't respond the way they expected and they either felt they needed to push for answers or they couldn't get far enough away from him.

Daniel followed him, close on his heels as he burst through the door outside. Once they reached the open air, Daniel backed off, giving Tony some space as he paced. It was only once he slowed and finally drew to a stop, head hanging as he breathed heavily, that Daniel approached him.

“You alright?”

“Just peachy,” Tony said, still not looking up.

“Fair enough,” Daniel said with a sigh, not pushing anymore for the moment. Tony focused on his breathing, desperately wanting Loxley with him, but he couldn’t risk calling his spirit animal in front of a guide.

"Just ask," Tony said, still turned away from the other man, his shoulders tense as he waited for the questions to start. He had no way of explaining his reaction without everything spilling right out and he wasn't sure he could handle that on top of everything else.

"No," Daniel said and Tony looked up then, measuring the other man’s sincerity. Daniel met his gaze without faltering and shrugged. "We’ll need to talk about it soon, but it doesn’t have to be right this instant."

Tony ran a shaking hand through his hair and released a shuddering breath. It was a reprieve, and only temporary, but Tony would take what he could get.

"Okay."

“Okay," Daniel agreed. "What do you need from us?”

“Somewhere to work.”

Daniel clapped him on the shoulder and pulled away a moment later. Tony realised he was still emotionally wide open for any guide to read and just hoped that Daniel assumed he was picking up Tony’s emotions, not that Tony was projecting them. He tamped down on the strongest of his emotions and walled them up until not even a guide looking for them could easily find them. It took a moment longer to pull himself in as tight as he dared so he’d read as bland and boring to anyone sensitive.

"I think we can arrange that," Daniel said with a smile that didn't quite hide the gleam of speculation in his eyes.

...

Tony sat in the room they'd turned into his temporary quarters and office. On one side of the room was a bed and wardrobe, on the other a desk, computer and filing cabinet. It meant he could keep his own hours without anyone bugging him about eating and sleeping, his schedule for which had always been irregular. Loxley sat at his feet, a comforting presence after days of upheaval.

There was a single, sharp knock at the door and Tony looked up frowning. He wondered if this was it, if they’d give him a chance to explain his reaction or if they’d just condemn him on the flimsiest evidence the way the FBI had. 

“Come in,” he called, steeling himself as the door opened to Teal’c's large silhouette.

"Agent DiNozzo," Teal'c intoned with a small dip of his head.

"Teal'c. How can I help you?" he asked, surprised when he picked up the smells wafting from the covered plate Teal’c was holding. A last meal then?

“Daniel Jackson requested that I deliver sustenance,” Teal’c said without inflection, though he raised an eyebrow that injected a little distant amusement into his expression, even if his emotional tone hadn't felt indulgent.

Obviously Daniel didn’t want to see him. Whatever he had picked up from Tony when they’d touched must have been enough to put him off. Tony couldn't blame him, not when he knew he was an absolute mess, but he was still disappointed. And he point blank refused to think about the NID scientist. Tony wasn't exactly comfortable with any guides or sentinels, but Daniel was by far the easiest to be around. And Daniel wasn't the one who'd spilled his emotions all over the other man like a neophyte.

"Thanks," Tony said, taking the plate from Teal'c and placing it on one of the few free spaces on the desk, near the edge. Teal'c continued to stare at him like he knew Tony was in the habit of skipping meals when he got carried away with a case.

“There is something I wish to inquire.”

“Shoot,” Tony said, leaning a hip against his desk even though answering questions was the very last thing he wanted to do.

“O’Neill usually only reacts like that to Daniel Jackson,” Teal’c told him. To guides, Tony filled in, specifically to guides in distress.

“Fancy that.”

“You are a latent sentinel.”

“That’s what all the paperwork says.”

"Hmm.”

Teal’c watched him in silence for a long moment until Tony felt exposed, stripped and laid bare, and that usually only happened with nosy guides.

“You haven’t asked your question,” Tony said folding his arms across his chest.

“Do you intend Daniel Jackson harm?”

Tony raised an eyebrow, not having expected to justify any potential prospective intentions. Not that he had any.

“No,” he said, figuring it was better than trying to argue with the large man.

"Neither the Jaffa nor the Goa'uld have the ability to become guide or sentinel. We lack the instinctive trust sentinels and guides share, but Jaffa are raised to understand the importance of loyalty and duty,” Teal’c told him, gaze never wavering. “I have dedicated my life to pursuing the destruction of false gods and the enemies of the Tauri.”

"I understand," Tony said, not needing the implicit warning to be spelled out for him. Teal'c would protect his friends and Tony could admire that, even if he did find the guy rather intimidating. Teal'c stared evenly at him.

"Daniel Jackson has come to trust you."

"He has?" Tony asked, surprised. Given Daniel's reaction to sensing him, Tony wasn’t sure he believed it. But Teal’c didn’t seem the type to lie. If anything he seemed direct to a fault.

"Daniel Jackson is often right about these things."

Tony wondered if Daniel had mentioned anything about what he’d sensed. He’d been surprised enough when O’Neill hadn’t immediately interrogated him about his reaction.

"Oh," Tony said, not sure how to deal with that.

"Indeed," Teal'c said solemnly, his expression blank, but Tony could read his amusement at Tony's speechlessness and realised the man was quite possibly the worst troll.

"So do I pass inspection?" Tony asked. "Or muster, or the shovel talk, whatever it was you wanted out of this encounter."

"I am sure you will be a worthwhile ally, Agent DiNozzo," Teal'c told him, bowing his head again and then taking his leave.

Tony returned to his desk and sat back down with his files, not entirely sure what to make of the encounter. It seemed half warning, half welcome, but Tony still wasn’t sure where he stood once this investigation was over. Loxley jumped up into his lap and, even though he wasn't tangible in any real sense, Tony was comforted by his presence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a reason Daniel and Jack aren't there to interrogate Tony directly, but that'll be revealed later. They sent Teal'c to keep an eye on him instead.


	6. Chapter 6

Tony hesitated just outside of Daniel's door. The man had requested a meeting, but Tony had a fairly good idea what was coming. He might have avoided a small, grey cell in Israel, but he wasn't so sure he'd be able to do the same this time. But, there wasn't anywhere he could run, even if he wanted to, not so far underground, so he breathed in deeply and knocked. Daniel called for him to enter and he twisted the knob and stepped in, closing it behind him before he could change his mind.

Daniel's office was exactly as Tony had imagined it probably would be. Filled with artifacts and notes, half-finished projects and old reports. It was exactly the sort of office he expected from an absent-minded professor, not that he doubted Daniel's keen intellect and sharp observational skills. Daniel was seated at his desk and Tony wasn't exactly surprised to see O'Neill leaning against the wall behind him, arms folded and apparently casual, but his eyes tracked Tony's every move.

Tony kept his steps measured as he moved across the room even as his pulse jumped and his heart thudded in his chest. O'Neill would have had no trouble hearing it if he hadn't been dormant. He dropped into the chair opposite them and raised an eyebrow. There was no point at pretending they all didn't know why he was there.

Without a word, Daniel pushed a file across the desk. Tony's gaze flicked from one to the other as he pulled it closer to him and flipped it open. He was tempted to close it immediately again, but he tamped down on that reaction as hard as possible. His hand was shaking, he realised belatedly, and he dropped it in his lap as he looked back up at the two men.

"We interrogated Doctor Nathan Moore as soon as we returned from the field," Daniel said. Tony hadn't heard that name in years. Had deliberately not even thought about it.

"You did," Tony said faintly, the inflection all wrong for it to be a question.

"We pieced together a rough timeline of what he's been up to," Daniel continued, his blue eyes bright behind his glasses.

"You did," he said again.

"He graduated Harvard Medical School in 1972," O'Neill began as pushed off from the wall and began to circle the desk. "He quickly rose to the top of his field and, by 1976, he was part of a classified project investigating Sentinels and Guides in the military. In 1980 he was dismissed for unethical human experiments."

O'Neill wandered the room as he spoke and Tony struggled to keep his senses focused on both men. Every instinct of his was screaming at him not to let the Colonel get behind him but he held still, betraying as little as possible.

"We have evidence to show that he moved around Eastern Europe from 1982 until he joined the NID in 1998. There's just this period in 1981 where all we can find is that he was likely in New York."

By that point O'Neill had come to stand behind him, hands on the back of his chair.

"Is that so," Tony said, his voice sounding distant and strained to his own ears.

"By all accounts, he spent at least a few months there, but possible as long as a year. You would have been about twelve at the time," O'Neill continued, looming over him and Tony suddenly realised he couldn't breathe. It was shortly before he turned twelve, actually. After that, he'd been shipped off to boarding school. A hand touched his shoulder and he flinched away even though all he sensed was grim satisfaction, weary concern and a distant, aching sympathy.

A solid not-quite-weight settled in his lap and Tony opened his eyes expecting to see Loxley even though the fox knew better than to appear where he could be seen and could expose Tony, even when Tony was in distress. Especially when he was in distress. Instead, there was a large leopard resting its head in his lap, eyes staring up at him.

"Jack," Daniel warned and Tony realised the other man was kneeling in front of him, hands hovering near his, but not quite touching him.

"Jesus, kid," O'Neill said, sounding tired and worn, from somewhere off to the side, not behind him anymore. "Even dormant, you send all my instincts into overdrive. We just had to be sure. We're not going to do anything to you. Even if the fact that a sentinel sends my instincts into overdrive at all is weird as hell."

"Jack," Daniel said again, this time a little bit of a whine entering his voice.

"We need to make a report to the council," O'Neill said, ignoring the other man. "We need to see if there's anyone else Moore might have got his hands on."

"No," Tony said, voice still too sharp and too strained. "They don't... I'm not..."

After Moore, Tony had been terrified of anyone finding out what he was, what he could do, and he'd been mostly left alone at boarding school. There hadn't been classes or much in the way of organisation then and he hadn't so much slipped through the cracks as deliberately shaped himself to fit through them; latent, unimpressive, forgettable.

Ohio State had just been introducing a sentinel and guide social club when he got there. He'd avoided it until avoiding it had made him stand out and then he'd attended as few meetings as he could get away with. Most of the others had stayed away from him, caught between instincts to treat him as sentinel or guide from one moment to the next. But he'd been partially compatible with one of the guides and terrified that he'd be exposed, especially when the guide became interested in him. It hadn't helped at all that one of their few conversations had resulted in Tony discovering that he was a medical student who wanted to specialise in researching sentinels and guides. Tony had left him almost catatonic with an empathic attack when he'd been a little too persistent. He'd been left alone after that. Alone was safe.

"It's okay," Daniel assured him, voice gentle but firm. "I understand."

Somehow Tony doubted that very much. Then Daniel rested his hands lightly over Tony's and Tony felt his certainty and his regret and his compassion and understanding, and underneath all that was a solid core of determination. Whatever Daniel had sensed from Tony had changed nothing about the way he saw him.

"We'll only tell them what they need to know," Daniel said and Tony could sense he fully believed what he was saying. "The rest isn't relevant."

"Daniel," O'Neill said. Daniel glared over Tony's shoulder and then raised his eyebrows in half-question, half-accusation. O'Neill gave a resigned sigh.

A phone call interrupted and them and Daniel lingered a moment, giving his hand a squeeze before turning to answer it.

“Jackson,” he said and then paused to listen. “Kinsey’s been trying to reach you," he told Tony, "but your phone won’t work this far below ground. Paul can transfer it through here without Kinsey being the wiser.”

Tony took a moment to wrap Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo around him like a blanket, pushing everything else away.

“Go ahead.”

“Now hang on a moment,” O’Neill objected but Daniel was already putting the call on speaker and O’Neill backed off, though he folded his arms and glared at the other man. Daniel seemed entirely unbothered.

“DiNozzo.”

“Agent DiNozzo, you’ve been rather difficult to track down,” Kinsey said, a note of warning in his voice.

“I have information for you,” Tony told him, distracting him from the fact Tony hadn’t actually showed his face in the office since his last meeting with Kinsey.

“Not over the phone,” Kinsey said. “We can’t be sure it’s secure.”

O'Neill nodded so Tony figured they had a way to get him back to DC without too much fuss. Probably the beaming thing, which he was not looking forward to going through again.

“Alright, we’ll meet in person.”

“My car will pick you up in ten minutes,” Kinsey told him. Tony glanced at O’Neill who shook his head and held up two fingers.

“I’m about to head into a meeting with Major Davis and I don’t want to raise his suspicions. Can we make it two hours?” Tony asked instead.

“Fine,” Kinsey conceded, but there was a definitely sulkiness to his voice now.

“I’ve been working on what you asked me. I think you’ll be pleased,” Tony told him.

“Excellent. I knew we could count on you.”

Tony rolled his eyes. Him being picked had nothing to do with being counted on and everything to do with being expendable.

“Goodbye, Mr Vice President.”

“Agent DiNozzo.”

There was a dial tone and Daniel hung up the phone. Tony glanced from one man to the other.

“Where do I go to get wired up?”

"I'll show you," Daniel volunteered immediately. 

"Why don't you let Davis know what's going on while I take him," Jack suggested. “And let Sam know we’re on our way.”

"Jack." Daniel's voice took on a note of warning.

"Daniel." O'Neill's voice was firm and authoritative. They waggled and contorted their eyebrows at each other in ways Tony had no hope of understanding until they seemed to come to a decision. Daniel rocked back on his heels and pushed his glasses up his nose. He looked back down at Tony and the leopard still cuddling with him and nodded.

"Fine," he said and O'Neill clapped his hands together and headed for the door.

"Come on, DiNozzo, you're with me," O'Neill said, barely slowing to wait for him. Tony maneuvered out of the chair, the leopard giving him just enough space to do so and then following close on his heels when he headed out. He glanced briefly back at Daniel, but the man was already on the phone and determinedly not looking at him. 

Tony and O’Neill walked in silence to the elevator and Tony had a strange moment of deja vu but O’Neill didn’t push the emergency stop button and he shook off the feeling. Daniel’s leopard hadn’t left his side yet and Tony wasn’t about to turn him away when he found his presence so comforting. Almost as much as Loxley.

"So," O'Neill said and then he didn't say anything more.

"Is this where you warn me off?" Tony asked, more curious than worried. Tony had never felt as comfortable in the presence of active sentinels or guides as he did with Daniel and the connection was obvious, even Tony couldn't deny it.

"Oh please," O'Neill said with a snort. "You're hardly the first damaged cynic to fall under his spell. He has a whole string of them. Practically one on every planet."

"So he's a diplomacy Kirk. Reluctant allies everywhere he goes," Tony said, reluctantly amused. He could see it all too easily; Daniel turning bright blue eyes and passionate words on people as they fell in supplication.

"Exactly. Though the level of reluctance is inversely proportional to the amount of puppy dog eyes and application of guilt trips."

Tony sighed.

"What are the chances of recovery?"

"Well, you might be the first," O'Neill said with a hopeful tone that was utterly at odds with the wicked glint in his eyes. Tony sighed again. "Cheer up," O'Neill said, slapping him on his good shoulder. "Once you've taken a fearless moral inventory of all the terrible decisions you've made in your life, there's no one more loyal or determined to have at your back."

"I'm not sure you're being a very good wingman."

"I am," Jack said with certainty, then he made an aggrieved noise. "Just don't expect to get away with anything ever again. He won't let you."

Tony glanced at him, eyebrow raised.

"You're not making a very good case."

"You haven’t stopped touching his spirit guide."

Tony jerked his hand away from where it had been pressed to the leopard’s head and he fought the blush creeping up his neck through sheer force of will.

"And you're okay with that?" Tony asked, because he was a stranger to them. A stranger with secrets who'd joined them under a cloud. If he was O'Neill, he wouldn't let him anywhere near his team.

"You and Danny are compatible," O'Neill said watching Tony with eyes that were far too keen. He wondered if, before O'Neill became dormant, his spirit guide had been a hawk. It was never too far from his mind either that O'Neill used to be special ops, that he’d taken on aliens with the power and authority to masquerade as gods.

"And that's all it takes?"

"For now."

There was a story there, a reason he was being granted this concession, even if it was only on Daniel's behalf. Tony knew himself well enough to know the puzzle of it was going to drive him half-insane. Whatever leeway Tony was being given it clearly didn't extend that far. Tony might have been trusted enough to be given an opportunity, but anything more than that he'd have to earn.

"I understand," he said. Jack nodded once and didn't say anything further.

The elevator stopped and Tony realised O’Neill hardly had to stop it to have his conversations when they had to cover so many floors. He followed the other man down the corridor and into a lab where several scientists were bent over their tables, working diligently at things Tony was sure were far beyond him.

“Hey Sam,” O’Neill said and Carter looked up from what she was doing, putting it aside carefully and moving to join them.

“Jack. Agent DiNozzo.”

“Captain Carter.”

“You can do your thing now,” Jack said, wiggling the fingers of one hand.

“Right,” she said, heading over to one of the cabinets and unlocking it. She fiddled with something for a moment and when she turned there was a gauntlet on her wrist. “This is a healing device. It can be used by anyone with naquadah in their blood. If you don’t mind?”

She reached for his sling and he was more than happy to shrug out of it, fascinated at the opportunity to see it in action. She gently positioned him and held the gloved hand a little above him arm. It began to glow, softly at first and then more brightly.

The pain in his arm flared before a moment before fading entirely and he flexed his fingers, amazed that there wasn’t even a lingering hint of ache left. Carter frowned, eyes screwing shut in concentration, and she shifted the angle of the healing device. Slowly the tightness in his chest that he’d learned to live with eased and he breathed, awed by how easy it suddenly was.

“There was a problem with your chest?” Carter asked.

“An old injury,” Tony said, not wanting to get into everything to do with the plague. "They said there wasn't anything more that could be done. You said that device can only be used by someone with naquadah in their blood. How exactly does that work?"

He'd always found the tried and true method of distracting scientists was to ask them about what they were working on.

"It's quite fascinating really," Carter said, smiling. "It requires a mental component to activate the energy which is focused through the crystal. The naquadah acts as a -"

"Carter," O'Neill said, voice heavy with exasperation, from where he was leaning against one of the counters. Tony could recognise enough of himself in the older man to be fairly certain O'Neill knew exactly what he was doing.

"Right, sir," she said, spine straightening as she turned to get something else from the cabinet. "We have a variety of ways of monitoring and tracking people modified from alien technology. For today, you probably won't need most of it, not with the Prometheus keeping a lock on you from orbit. Just in case."

It still blew Tony’s mind that they had actual spaceships. They’d been in space, to other planets, and no one knew anything about it. Carter handed him an earbud that was practically invisible and he pressed it into his ear. She then pinned a small transmitter under his collar.

“We’ll be able to beam you out the moment there’s a problem,” she assured him. 

“Now would be the time to tell us if you have a safe word,” O’Neill said pushing away from the counter. 

“Casablanca,” Tony said without too much consideration. 

“Well,” O’Neill said, clapping a hand on his shoulder and shoving his sling into his hand. “Here’s looking at you kid.”

With that, Tony’s world dissolved to white as he was transported.


End file.
